


To Speak and Be Heard

by blueadvent



Category: Persona 5 Royal
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, P5R Spoilers, akira in inaba, anyone can come back to being good, because it's easy and interesting, he just needs a little variety, it's literally just the ending with extra scenes, just an extention of the canon to make myself feel better, the protag loves his friends, the silent protagonist has thoughts and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueadvent/pseuds/blueadvent
Summary: Akechi and Akira try to talk about the best course of action, if Akira really wants to avoid violence. Really it's just nice to chat.Then, Akira misses his jazz club buddy, and decides to find him.---A drabble that got out of hand, that explores: the friendship between the Protagonist and Akechi, the ethics of Royal's added epilogue, and a possible resolution. Picks up right at the end of Persona 5: Royal.This contains spoilers for Persona 5: Royal and Persona 4.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 172
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	To Speak and Be Heard

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this because I finished Persona 5 Royal and had two things: feelings and opinions. This fic addresses both of those, as scenes that make me feel better about the whole situation.
> 
> The shipping here is very slight, so you may read it as friends or as pre-romance.
> 
> Again, this has spoilers for Persona 4! If you have not played that and get spoiled here, I will be heartbroken, so please consider your choices wisely.

“You know,” Akechi mused, swirling the leftover ice in his glass, “I do believe I’ve been monologuing. What are your final thoughts on Maruki?”

Akira considered this for a moment, his neutral ceramic expression unfaltering. “You’re the detective here.”

“So that means you’d like to place the full burden of dissecting Maruki’s powers on me? Are you sure that’s wise, given who I am?”

Akira couldn’t help but smirk. “You’re the one that hates this place the most. Everything I think of, you’re bound to have already considered.”

“Try me,” Akechi deadpanned.

Akira took a considering sip of his drink, though it was almost water at this point. He looked at Akechi, who was still waiting for him to speak with a patient scowl.

Before, Akechi would watch Akira as a hawk would follow a snake. They were in an eternal game of chess, where every comment was a move on the board. Calculated, and full of meaning. Akira had been secretly thrilled to have such an interesting dynamic. He loved his friends, very much so, and he was always happy to lend an ear, and be their shoulder to cry on. From his time in Tokyo, he found that everyone needed that. So he would provide.

But not Akechi. The old Akechi saw him as a rival, an equal. Someone that-- much to Akira’s eventual dismay-- was the evil reflection of Akira’s good deeds.

He still opened up to Akira, of course. He had that kind of effect on people, for reasons he could never quite discern. Still, Akechi never saw Akira as his savior, and he relished their time together for it.

Though he did suppose it was strange to get along this well with a man who tried to kill him. Maybe he should see a second therapist, since his first one didn’t work out.

(Funny. Usually, his confidants would have started rambling by now to fill the space. Akira waited a moment longer, curious.)

The new Akechi’s stare was softer. He had already admitted that there was no need for a facade around Akira anymore. That's why he used his dark outfit and Loki in their battles. That same indifference translated into a more relaxed Akechi overall.

It helped knowing that Maruki was their only villain. Shido’s men and the police were out of the picture in this reality.

Still, that comfort came with a steep price. And for Akechi’s patience, Akira rewarded him with his interpretation.

“Bringing people back from the dead,” he started, then paused. Akechi stiffened. “Making whole, complete people, not illusions, has to be the hardest part. To bring them back like this, Maruki must have stitched together the memories of them from various people.”

“Wakaba is a perfect example. At first, I thought Maruki devised this world around us, as the Phantom Thieves. We’ve all spoken with him about our problems in depth.”

“Even you?” Akechi sounded doubtful.

“Hm,” Akira paused with a small smile, “I counseled him, more than anything. He already told me about his ex-girlfriend during our sessions.”

The detective scoffed, leaning in with a judgemental smirk. “What a terrible councillor! And to pile that all on a high school student? Laughable. What a weak-willed man. Or maybe instead that says something of your candor,” Akechi mused, then gestured to Akira. “Well, continue.”

Why did that startle him? Was it so shocking, for Akira to say more than three sentences, and not have that end his input for the evening?

His surprise must have shown on his face, because Akechi sneered, “Oh come on, like that’s all you’ve come up with? You’ve barely given me a single coherent thought. If you want to talk that mad man out of his cultist illusions, you’ll need to articulate more than that.”

A smile couldn’t help but rest on Akira’s face, and Akechi leaned back in his chair, gesturing at him to continue.

“I’m sure Maruki has and knows his limits,” Akira began, eyes wandering as he spoke. “I imagine he focused on bringing back the dead family members of the Phantom Thieves, and anyone else he knew personally. You can’t just bring everyone back to life in Tokyo, and that’s assuming his reach is limited to the city.”

“That implies that his perfect world is already fault to his favoritism,” the detective added, brushing some hair out of his face.

“He is still human,” Akira agreed, “which is the second major problem. What happens when he grows old, and dies? What if he doesn’t? What if he becomes resentful of the perfect world he created?”

He drummed his fingers on the table, and shook his head. “He’s a very good person, at heart. When he says he genuinely wants us to be happy, I believe him.” Akira looked to Akechi, surprised that the other’s gaze never faltered. He was considering him with genuine interest. It was refreshing.

“But, if he’s still human, he’ll trip up at some point. He can’t be a perfect saint forever. This isn’t a reality that has guaranteed happiness. It’s a reality where Maruki is guaranteed to have total control, and we completely lose our free will.”

“Very well said.” The compliment came with a genuine smile of approval from Akecki. “Have you ever considered going into politics? You really do have that gleam of the upstanding, charismatic leader. It's like the false persona that Shido sold to the public.”

“I don’t think that’s a compliment,” Akira frowned, shoulders sagging. “But I did learn a few things from a former member of the Diet.”

“My my, and you’re well connected,” Akechi hummed. “You’re already there. The Phantom Thieves clout is sure to be a boon in a few years, I’m sure that will carry you far. How did that happen, anyway? Did they support your ethically dubious thievery?”

There it was again, the smack of surprise that came with being asked a personal question. It didn’t even matter that it came from Akechi, so much as that it endeared Akira more to his would-be murderer. Seriously, would it kill his friends to ask him questions about his life and actually let him respond? The number of times--

“If you’d rather not share, I understand. I wouldn’t want you to worry that I would target some stranger,” Akechi backpedaled nonchalantly.

“It’s nothing like that,” Akira replied more urgently than he needed to. Or maybe he did need to? Akechi saw his widened eyes and jumped to his most obvious conclusion. The shock of Akira's earnestness caused him to turn away, flustered.

“I’m friends with Toranosuke Yoshida,” Akira supplied, and was more satisfied with Akechi’s small, bewildered frown than he’d like to admit. “I ran into him giving speeches by the Crossing last year. I helped him but together his campaign while he could still accept volunteer help. In exchange, he gave me speaking tips that I utilized in our negotiations with shadows.”

“Huh.” Akechi said nothing more, the gears whirring in his head. Akira let him process for a minute before the detective continued. “So it’s your fault he finally got himself together? I’m honestly impressed. You do have quite the effect on people, Akira.”

Akira shrugged and gave a forgettable smile. “I just listen. People are good at talking about themselves. They can usually figure out their own problems that way if they feel supported. All I do is figure out which version of myself they want to see, and they take care of the rest.”

“Ahh, that must be what makes you the true wild card.” Somehow, Akechi’s words felt proud. “The master of many masks. But which is the real one, I wonder? Does that ever bother you?”

“Does it bother you?” Akira countered, meeting Akechi’s stare. Electricity sparked between them. “People are complicated. It makes sense to have more than one true self. Don’t you agree?”

“What a loaded question,” Akechi spat with a smile, his gaze level. “You know I’m a two-faced deviant whose tricks never fail to dazzle. I had the world licking my boots, Akira. Well, except for you.”

“It takes a trickster to know a trickster,” Akira offered, pleased that the Velvet Room’s word for them seemed to be applicable.

Akechi frowned, then, and broke their staring contest, locking his eyes on his empty drink instead. “It baffles me to no end that you actually seem to enjoy associating with me. Are you truly that twisted? That you would willingly compare yourself to an actual murderer?”

“I guess so,” Akira replied lightly. It was the wrong answer, because Akechi scoffed and rose to his feet.

“I think our productive conversation ends there,” he snapped, grabbing his bag. His stern posture softened when he looked back to Akira, whose furrowed brows and openly hurt frown caused the man to pause. “I can’t be of any help to you if we’re just going at each other’s throats, hm?”

The frown deepened, and Akechi sunk back into his chair. He was no longer dedicated enough to running out to warrant standing.

“You are helping me,” Akira reassured him, and the genuine tone made Akechi scowl.

It was true, though. Maybe it was the novelty of it all. He thought they would never speak again, after Akechi came and smoothed over his legal status. And their conversations did help him. It was nice to be part of an intellectual tennis game, and he had to believe that Akechi agreed. After all, he had taken up Akira's offer to go to the jazz club every night for the past week and a half.

“Then tell me,” Akechi signed, setting his bag down as a momentary concession. “Do you believe your argument is strong enough to persuade Maruki to dismantle his reality? The man claims that he would like to resolve our tensions without violence, but he’s just determined to sway you to his side. His ambush ought to be tomorrow, after all.”

Akira’s frown returned, and he shook his head. “I think they’re good arguments, but I don’t think he’ll listen.”

“Why not? You are his prized pupil, after all.”

“It might work if he was willing to hear me out,” he conceded, eyes lost behind the reflection of his glasses. “But then he would need to listen as well as you.”

For the umpteenth time that night, Akechi scoffed. “Really? You think he won’t listen to you? The prodigal son? The leader of the idolized Phantom Thieves? Honestly, you need to work on explaining--”

“Akechi,” Akira said lowly. Akechi stopped, and leaned forward to hear the man’s hushed tones. “I don’t think you realize how much I talk around you, compared to everyone else. I can't remember the last time I’ve said this many words in an evening. People don't come to me for my insight. They come to me because I make them feel heard.”

In a shocking turn of events, Akechi said nothing.

Acknowledging the abnormality caused the rest of Akira’s rant to dry up in his mouth, so he kept quiet as well. Though it shouldn’t have been, even this resulting silence felt comfortable.

“Thank you,” Akira said finally, after enough time had passed. Patrons were starting to clear out of the club. “For talking about this with me so much. I know what I want to say to Maruki, if he’s willing to hear it. If I’m willing to give it a chance.” He fixed his hair, brushing some of the unruly black locks from his face. “And if it doesn’t work... then you’ll see it on the group chat, I guess.”

“Of course,” Akechi replied easily, though his mind was still off in the distance. Akira peered his head down, trying to get a vantage point to Akechi’s stare under his long bangs. When the older boy noticed, he huffed a noise of amusement, and stood up once more. “Well, it’s time. To the station, then?”

Akira nodded, and they gathered their things and began walking in silence.

They almost made it to the station platform before Akechi broke the silence.

“In theory, you have good friends. Do you agree?”

“Obviously.”

Akechi nodded. “Right. Then you may do well to practice your assertiveness with them, instead of me. I don’t plan on sticking around as your sounding board forever. However, I do believe that you made the correct choice by coming to me for this particular discussion. Your emotionally-driven teammates may have introduced more flaws to your argument, and there’s no need to make this any more difficult. So in a way, I feel that this has helped me... repay my debts, as well. If only a little. Besides, it wasn’t the worst way to waste time in this fictional world.”

Akira smiled at that, and if Akechi noticed, he didn’t show it.

They paused at their division point at the station for the last time.

Akechi turned to him, and with effort, gave Akira a small smile. It was pained, and Akira couldn’t decipher the reasons why if he had all the time in the world.

“Don’t disappoint me tomorrow, after I’ve worked so hard getting you up to speed.” It was as close to a joking tease as Akechi could give, and Akira accepted it with a warm smile and a nod.

“Thanks again, Akechi. See you.”

If there was any sadness at their parting, neither of them would show it. They were tricksters, after all, capable of handling any trial.

An emotional farewell wouldn’t do them justice.

\---

Inaba was not as stifling as Akira remembered. The quiet hills and empty streets used to burn into his brain like static. The rough, quick pace of the city suited him much better. It was satisfying to prowl through those crowded streets, to blend in with the crowd. Returning to the place where he was a quiet disappointment sounded worse than he ever wanted to let on to his friends.

Still, it was okay. His parents were as absent as ever, and the whispers of his criminal record in class were no worse than at Shujin. Morgana loved to explore the new landscape, which was “much safer for stray cats than in Tokyo, he would be just fine, stop worrying so much.”

It was quiet, yes. Akira hadn’t experienced this much quiet in a long time.

So instead of stifling, this new open world felt like a blank canvas.

Unfortunately for everyone who owed him, that meant Akira had plenty of time to think. He no longer remembered how to sit idle, and he finally had time to pursue a goal of his own.

“What’s that?” Morgana asked one night as he jumped through the open window into the living room. “Is that the same chart as before? It’s gotten more complicated.”

Akira’s laptop was hooked up to the tv in the living room, so he had an easier time editing his brainstorm web. “Yeah. I added more details from Yu Narukami’s interview today.” He zoomed out so Morgana could see the new information that spawned from the Velvet Room circle.

“Holy cats, that’s a lot! I didn’t realize my knowledge of my Master’s work was so limited,” Morgana mused, settling directly in front of the tv. “Still, things align with what I know, and based on what Lady Lavenza already told you. So they were allied with the height of the first detective prince’s popularity, huh? It’s funny how that worked out.”

Akira nodded, a thoughtful frown tight on his face.

“Still, I’m happy to see that it worked out for all of them. Their bonds still seem strong after everything they’ve been through. It gives me hope for our rag-tag group of thieves to stay together for a long, long time.”

As if on cue, Akira’s phone buzzed. The group chat still fluttered away every day, at all hours. Ann was usually the cause of these late night sessions, between her work schedule and the time zone difference.

_ I’m happy to hear that _ , he typed into the chat after reading her grades were up after her first round of tests, and set it aside. He could catch up on the rest of the group’s inevitable teasing of Ryuji and Ann’s study habits later.

“I think the strangest thing,” Morgana sighed, still gazing up at the web, “is that no one else seemed to go to the Velvet Room. Like, I wonder if Akechi or this Adachi guy would have turned out better if they had some help to guide them, you know?”

Mona’s words echoed in Akira’s chest with a painful ring. “Yeah,” was all he could say.

“Hey, are you sure you saw him, back in Tokyo?” Morgana’s words were sharp, doubtful. Akira nodded, unshaken. “Because if he’s wandering around, then he’s a dead man walking. It’s been weeks since then. If his missing status had changed to ‘found’, then he would also be arrested pretty immediately. If he was being honest, then he’d be in juvenile detention right now, just like...” he trailed off, biting his tongue.

“If so, then that’s okay,” Akira reassured the cat, reaching over to scratch behind his ears. “I just want closure.” That wasn’t true, of course, but that didn’t matter yet.

“Ahh, that always feels so nice!” Morgana purred, nuzzling into the touch. Akira pulled his hand away, and Morgana coughed, straightening. “Ah, right, yes, well. You know I’ll help you in any way I can. Have you tried asking any of your extra confidants about it?”

“I asked a few of them to keep an eye out.”

“Well, that’s a start. Akechi, the defamed detective prince, is bound to show up one way or another. It’s not like him to stick to the shadows forever.” Morgana yawned and stretched, leaping away from the tv. “C’mon, let’s go to bed. You won’t be productive if you don’t get some shuteye.”

Once, Akira had hated the cat for limiting his waking hours. The brief stint when Morgana was missing (and by Haru’s side instead) renewed his appreciation for his stern keeper. It was nice that someone cared, even if it was ordained so Morgana could use his body as a warm bed.

He saved his work, not bothering to put anything away in the quiet, empty house, and went to bed.

\---

_ “OMG, you are NOT going to believe this!” _

_ “I guess it won’t help you much right now, but I do have some old news about Akechi’s whereabouts, from back in December!” _

Akira stared at his phone in shock. His shaking hands took too long to type out his simple response to Ohya: “ _ What’d you find?” _

_ “Get this! I was talking to Kayo about last year, and catching her up to speed. She’s still in the hospital, but she’s doing so much better, which is great.” _

_ “Anyway, I showed her a picture of Goro Akechi, and she said a guy that looked just like him was in her hospital for a couple of months back in winter!!!” _

_ “That’s unbelievable _ ,” Akira replied, because it was.

_ “Right?! Apparently he had nooo memory of anything. Nada. It’s a super small facility, and he was a helpless kid, ya know? And it was bad, like reminiscent of those mental shutdown cases. Kayo remembers the nurses talking about having someone famous around. But also! Not wanting to turn him in unless he was healthy first. Didn’t want to pile on the problems for him.” _

_ “She didn’t know who it was between the other patients, but it all lines up with your timeline. Get this: The staff reluctantly discharged someone in late March. Kayo hasn’t seen your guy around recently, she figures it was him.” _

_ “Siiiiigh though, because that’s what, two months old news? The trail’s cold, now. I can’t get any details from the staff, since they’re serious about their patient confidentiality. I respect that, but it’s seriously annoying in situations like this.” _

_ “Thanks, Ohya. It helps.” _ Akira replied with a fond smile.

_ “Anytime, my infamous informant! I’ll let you know if I pick up anything else, okay?” _

Akira nodded and closed his phone, just in time to dodge a chalk projectile that hurdled toward his head. His classmates murmured, impressed, and the teacher huffed and tried to regain control of the room. Morgana gave him a conspiratorial glance from within his desk.

Akechi made it out of Shido’s palace alive.

It was a step forward.

\---

_ “Dude, do you even need anything else?” _

Ryuji’s question hurt in a way Akira didn’t expect it to. The blonde’s chat messages, blissfully unaware, continued to flood the group chat.

_ “I mean, the dude’s still a murderer.” _

_ “We aren’t exactly friends with him.” _

_ “Isn’t it good enough to know he didn’t die protecting us?” _

Morgana frowned up at Akira’s stoic face. “Once an idiot, always an idiot. It’s... complicated.”

_ “It’s complicated _ ,” Akira replied.

_ “You’re such an idiot, Ryuji _ ,” Futaba chirped.

_ “Hey!” _

_ “I think it’s valid to be working through these feelings, Akira _ ,” Haru supplied helpfully. Her light, gentle voice hid a girl of pure steel, Akira knew that for a fact.

_ “Yeah, what she said!” _ Futaba agreed. It was those two whose opinions mattered the most, since they were directly affected by Akechi’s evildoings. If they had asked Akira to stop, then he would’ve. (Or, he would’ve left them out of it. They didn’t need to know everything, especially if it was only going to hurt them.)

_ “Our leader isn’t the type to hold a grudge, even if this is a man who tried to kill him.” _ He could hear Makoto’s long-suffering sigh. “ _ You know we’ll continue to help you for as long as you need, Akira.” _

_ “We’ll always support each other, through thick and thin!”  _ Ann added.

Yusuke, ever helpful, replied: “ _ The machinations of the heart are not so easily subdued. There are intricacies abound. We all know this, as does our leader most of all.” _

_ “Alright, alright, I get it _ .” Ryuji finally replied again. “ _ Sorry, man. We’ll keep looking.” _

Akira shook his head, though only the cat could see it. “ _ Thanks, everyone.” _ He put his phone away.

Morgana leaned into Akira, and closed his eyes. “We have some great friends. They really are the best kind of thieves of hearts: they all believe that people can change for the better, and atone. Otherwise, what’s the point of everything we’ve done?”

He looked up again, big blue eyes boring into Akira’s own, as bright and hopeful as ever. “In my mind, you’re the best when it comes to that, actually. We want people to stop hurting others, and try to make up for their sins. That’s all. Akechi is a particularly hard nut to crack, in this case, but we haven’t failed yet! If--  _ when _ we find him, I’m sure you'll be able to change his heart, even without a Persona.”

Akira nodded, and kept quiet as they started getting ready for bed.

Really, that was all Akira  _ could _ hope for. He didn’t have the heart to tell his friends that he wasn’t sure Akechi would change in the way they’d want him to. After all, they couldn’t force him to have a change of heart. Even if they still had access to the metaverse, Akechi had a Persona. In theory, he had already faced his true self. He was always going to be witty, and calculating, and put on a show around others. Half virtuous truth, and half shadow skulker: that was Akechi’s true form.

Honestly? Akira liked him that way. It made him interesting, and dynamic. Akira himself had dozens of sides, so many that they stopped phasing his friends, even when they were downright horrifying. It was like they forgot that for every Titania, there was a Beelzebub. Arsene’s awakening had  _ terrified _ Ryuji, and that was the rawest form of Akira’s soul.

He and Akechi were two sides of the same coin. The only things that set them apart were their external circumstances.

They both got kicked out of their original homes due to some extent of parental neglect, though even that situation was worse for Akechi.

Then Akira got Sojiro as his next caretaker, who became a second father to him (a third, if he counted Iwai as well.) Akechi got more trash, in human form.

Finally, when the mysterious power appeared that let him make a true impact on the world, Akira was blessed two-fold. First, with the Velvet Room, and second with instant companions in Ryuji and Morgana.

Akechi was given a path forward, and he took it so he could survive. That was all. Could he blame him if Akechi warped after suffering through such a hard life?

Akira would’ve done the exact same thing. Of this, he was absolutely sure.

When he looked at his brainstorming map again, on his phone in bed, Akira could see that was the key difference between them. Also, it made him distinct from other villains that showed themselves with Personas. Yu Narukami’s opponent, Adachi, was rotten to the core. He actively wanted to commit his crimes, and was drunk on the power when he was given the power to do so.

Ryuji would argue that Akechi did want to commit his crimes, too, to some extent. But it was the ethics of the matter that Akira still took issue with.

The Phantom Thieves were strong to their own sense of justice, but it wasn’t legal. It wasn’t morally correct, even, to metaphysically beat down someone’s psyche. Except for Futaba, no one consented to their changes. They were forced to crumble to the Phantom Thieves’s perception of Good.

Akira realized all this over the course of his friendship with Akechi. Even though the detective was focused on using his mind games to determine who Akira was, and to help him justify his misdeeds to himself. It still helped Akira see the true grey nature of their rebellion. Whenever the Phantom Thieves paused to consider their impact, it was always a mistake. More harm would always come from their inaction. Wielding a Persona was rarely an easy path.

So would he condemn Akechi? For attempting to right the world, but with his view clouded by cruelty, trudging forward without any support? No. The world would take care of that without Akira’s help.

Would his friends continue to be upset that Akira wasn’t simply happy knowing that Akechi was alive, as he had been telling them? That he was desperate to talk to someone again who understood his position? Someone who didn’t see him as a hero, but as Akira, who has been given Too Many Responsibilities?

Maybe. But that was not his cross to bear, this time.

It was selfish. He wanted his intellectual equal back, even if that meant staying friends with a murder. Or treading on the wrong side of the law again. Those facts didn’t matter to him the way it should, and at this point, he didn’t care. He saved the world multiple times, with the values that humans deserve to be free and are worth saving. Couldn’t he be a little selfish?

And, when he allowed himself to hope, there was also a chance Akechi missed him, too.

The thought reignited Akira’s determination. Could Futaba hack old security camera footage, or medical databases? Would Sae have heard anything, but be ordered to keep it under wraps? Maybe Chiaya could do a reading from afar, she did have a knack for these things...

Eventually, sleep overtook him. He dreamed of tan suits and the interrogation room.

\---

Akira’s phone rang as he approached his house. It had been a few weeks since his conversation with Ohya. Since, the wheels in Akira’s mind had slowed to a painful grind, frustrated with the lack of progress.

The caller-id of this particular call jettisoned his heart into hyperdrive. He was thankful people never expected him to start calls with a “hello”.

“It’s been a long time. Is it nice, being back in your hometown?” Sae’s voice was smooth and sweet, no longer laced with tactical determination. They were friends, now. “I imagine it’s been peaceful to get away from everything in the city.”

“It’s kind of borning,” Akira answered robotically, loitering on the front stoop. Morgana shuffled in his bag, and positioned himself upright so he could eavesdrop.

“Haha, I suppose you would think so, given your past year. Well, I have some news for you that might change that.”

Akira’s heart thundered in his ears.

“I haven’t even told Makoto this, yet. Our gag order finally lifted today, so I wanted to be the one to tell you this myself.”

Akira waited. He hoped his cooled expression carried over the phone, since he felt like a tensed rubber band, ready to snap.

“I have Goro Akechi as my client. He was arrested several months ago. We’ve been keeping the details of this case as quiet as possible, given Akechi's old fame.”

The elder Nijima sighed, and it was all Akira could do to stop himself from snapping at her for more details. She would tell him. They always did.

“It seems he was suffering from a terrible bout of amnesia for quite some time. Then, one day, he just remembered everything. The hospital kept him for a while, but then he called the police himself, asking for an escort to the juvenile detention facility.” Sae huffed. “Do you know how odd it is? Having a minor who worked with the police, who has been missing for months, demanding to be taken into custody? The cases with people surrounding you and the metaverse are terrible to work with.”

“I can imagine.”

Sea sighed, then hummed. “Yes, well, I suppose it’s fine. He’s been a big help. He’s given us plenty of names to work with for tracking down the rest of Shido’s lackeys. He’s practically done all the prosecutor’s work for them. On the other hand, it’s been impossible to get a case built against Akechi himself.”

Sae sounded so disappointed that it felt rude for Akira to pump his fist in delight, but that didn’t stop him. “Why’s that?”

“It’s like with Shido. Anything to do with the metaverse is impossible to prove, even when they admit to their crimes. He still has the issue of being a minor, which complicates things. And, with the remaining police force that wasn’t swept into Shido’s ring, Akechi still holds some clout. It’s easy for them to say he was being forced, so he shouldn’t be held accountable.”

“Anyway, that’s more information than you need right now.” Sae was smiling again. “I’ve only told you half of what I wanted to with this phone call.”

“What’s the other half?”

“Since he’s been on such good behavior, and he is in good graces with the remaining forces, Akechi is allowed to receive visitors. Makoto implied that is something you might be interested in. Do you want me to send along the details?”

“Yes, please,” Akira tried to say as nonchalantly as possible. He must have failed, because Sae giggled in response. It was funny, how she was more laid back than Makoto now.

“I’ll leave the details of your visit up to your discretion. I imagine it will be a very personal affair, to finally speak with the man who attempted to murder you. I hope it helps you settle things and move on.”

Was that the story he had been telling people? It was certainly easy to believe, from any external perspective. “Thank you very much, Sae.”

“Of course. I still owe you for all you’ve done for me, after all. I’ll be available if you need me.”

The phone clicked off, and Morgana launched himself from Akira’s shoulder to the half-wall by the door.

“Well, you look excited,” Morgana teased, stretching out. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you want to make a covert visit to Tokyo. You just have to promise to take me to that sushi place on main street before you go, okay?”

For the first time in ages, he smirked like a proper Joker.

\---

“Huh... I don’t know what I expected, but it sure wasn’t you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Akechi.”

Akira and Akechi shared a smirk of a smile, and Akira felt whole again. With more genuine fervor than he intended, he continued: “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Is it odd if I say the same thing to you? Not that I expected you to fall at the hands of Maruki, of course. I killed you with my own two hands and you still walked away. It will take more than an act of God to strike you down, now.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Akechi grinned, bearing his teeth like a proud feral animal. “I suppose so. Color me surprised to still be kicking on this side of reality as well. Maruki’s threat was baseless after all. So much for an all-knowing savior of the people. Did you know he’s a taxi driver now?”

Akira nodded, his face caught in a perpetual smile.

“It suits him. He can bother as many customers as he wants, but he’s no longer capable of upheaving their lives for them. A service job is perfect atonement for his drivel.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Akira asked before he could stop himself. Akechi’s eyebrows rose in brief surprise, before a confident mask slid into place.

“Naturally. Maruki was a bastard, but he at least provided me the dignity of my correct sense of self in his hellscape.” Akechi gestured to the protected plastic barrier that separated them. “Although I could not prevent you from turning yourself in to Sae, I still have other debts that need to be paid. Plus, this is the ideal sanctuary. I removed Shido’s old people that could harm me here. And then inserted myself to be protected by the remaining forces. It wounds me how simple it was.”

“And before you ask,” Akechi sighed, “don’t worry, I haven’t caused any problems using my... old methods. The metaverse is gone for me as well. Though I suppose I wouldn’t know now, since my phone broke after Shido's palace.”

“How long do you think you’ll be in here?” Akira asked, and Akechi managed not to seem offended by his earnest curiosity.

“Well if they keep messing up my case, it will only be a few more weeks. It seems the remaining law enforcement officers are determined to be the polar opposite from Shido’s reign. They're disgustingly good, with a strong belief in the human spirit. Did your lot do anything to them?”

Akira shook his head, and Akechi tsk’d. “Niijima-san will have to set them back on the course of reform, should she ever becomes commissioner. They’re going far too easy on me, thinking I am their ‘friend’. My guess is they will deem my time here enough, and they will release me with community service hours. It’s pathetic.”

“Then what will you do?”

Akechi shrugged. “I’ll see what I get there, I suppose. I’m loath to admit that I didn’t expect to get this far-- or rather, that I would need to reintegrate into society again. I believe they’re going to set me up with some witness protection services, which will be a nightmare. Although, I at least won’t have to deal with the Detective Prince visage any longer.”

Out of habit, Akechi seemed to reach for something on the table, only to realize nothing was there. He scowled.

“The owner of the jazz club asked about you.”

Akechi’s red eyes snapped to attention then, and Akira almost folded under his intense focus. “What did you tell him?”

“He says he’d like us to go back, sometime. And he hopes you’re doing well.”

That seemed to please him, as Akechi folded his arms back into his lap with a smile that was more fond than sinister. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint him. Though I doubt he needs me to warm a table for him any longer.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’m sure you patronize him quite enough without me, these days.”

“Actually, I haven’t been since I left town.”

Akechi gaped at him with genuine surprise, and didn’t bother to hide it. “Really? You left that gaggle of idiots to fend for themselves?”

“My parents wanted me to move back home after the sentence was lifted." The answer was simple, though he wondered if the disappointment showed on his face, because Akechi’s demeanor shifted to mild concern.

“So what, they only want their son back once he’s got a clean record and perfect grades? Figures.”

Akira shrugged. Silence hung between them, and Akechi gestured for him to go on.

Seriously, Akira loved him for that. He smiled, and continued: “Yusuke, Futaba, and Sumire are the only ones left in Tokyo. Everyone else moved for school, and to better their careers. They’re determined to change this reality to be the best it can be, on their own free will.”

“Don’t let Maruki hear you say that, or his head may swell again,” Akechi jabbed, but it had no bite. “So even the famous Phantom Thieves disbanded. Reality always comes with a price.”

Akira shrugged. “They’re happy, in their own ways.”

“Hm. And would you say you’re happy, Akira?”

Akira paused, considering his case. He wished he had a drink to prolong the thoughtful silence.

“I’m doing better now,” he decided.

Akechi blinked, absorbing the implications. Then he had the audacity to smile and stare thoughtfully into the distance. There was another beat, the old, comfortable silence settling around them. The ticking clock on the wall was the only noise.

“I suppose it would be nice to hear a live singer again,” Akechi said, finally. “I don’t believe the scraps of Shido’s forces have enough class to know the place exists. It won’t hurt to visit one more time, even if it’s as a stranger.”

Akira hummed, nodding. He checked the clock; their time was almost up. “It’s kind of a shame, though.”

The sly, calculating persona had drained out from Akechi at this point. He looked at Akira the same way he had at the fake jazz club: without a mask. Ready to listen. Akira’s heart soared.

“That Akechi guy challenged me to a rematch for our duel,” he faux sighed, unable to meet Akechi’s incredulous stare. “I still have his glove and everything. It’s uh--” embarrassed, he pulled Akechi’s glove out of his pocket, where it was always dutifully stored. “Kind of annoying to always have to carry this around. I was hoping he would track me down so I could kick his ass again.”

Akechi stared at him, unblinking, for long enough that Akira wanted to squirm. Finally, as if in slow motion, Akechi drew back, and brought his hand up to hide his laughter. His shoulders were tight, trying to suppress it as much as possible.

“You’re seriously... you’re bringing that up now?” Akechi asked in disbelief. Akira smiled a Joker grin, and tucked the glove away. “You really are... some kind of fool.... You need therapy, Akira.”

“Yeah,” he agreed smoothly, though his heart was fluttering. “I’ll try to find one less that’s less of a humanitarian savant next time.”

“Please, for the sake of the world, do make that a priority." Akechi finally calmed himself after getting some concerned looks from the guards. “That is a good glove, though. You should be careful, or else that guy very well may try to track you down. Moving towns won’t be enough to stop him.”

“I hope not. He still has my number,” Akira replied seriously. He fixed his hair, because he could see how messy Akechi’s had become after his laughing fit. “I’ll be hurt if he doesn’t call as soon as he’s free.”

Akechi moved a hand through his hair with a smile, aware that this reflected his rapport with Joker, and did not care. “Weren't you listening? His phone is no longer with us. It would be best if you told him your number again.”

“Shouldn't I wait until he’s free enough to have a phone on him?”

“Oh please, Akira,” Akechi grinned, cunning and genuine all at once. “It’s a nine digit sequence, what kind of idiot do you take him for?”

\---

Summer vacation was crawling to an end when Akira found himself in LeBlanc.

“Sorry, man, but there’s nothing you can do,” Ryuji consoled Akira across the booth.

“I can try hacking into their database again, if you want? They really tightened up their security after our grand finale as the Phantom Thieves, though,” Futaba sighed.

Makoto rubbed at the bridge of her eyebrows. “No, you will not be committing any crimes just to get Akechi’s new identity. We shouldn’t even know that he’s been found. Let’s not put another target on our backs for no reason.”

“I mean, there’s a reason for Akira,” Sumire added lowly.

“It’s okay, everyone. I'm fine.”

The disbanded thieves shared a collective glance, then stared back at their leader. “Are you sure? Everyone’s been working for months, and it sucks to be stuck with this,” Ann asked with a frown.

“Count on our leader to find the heart’s true contentment in a wild world of truths.” Yusuke took a sip of coffee, as if he had contributed.

Ryuji frowned at him. “Dude, do you hear yourself sometimes?”

“I only told you all so you could be prepared if you encountered him by chance,” Sae cut off, to save the conversation. “He’s been dealt with in the eyes of the law. Though that may not be satisfying for all of you, it will be better to keep the peace. If he acts out again, then we’ll be able to handle him with the normal legal system.”

The group hummed in agreement. “As long as you believe he has reformed, Sae-san, then I am content,” Haru nodded with determination.

Sae gave a knowing look at Akira, who kept a neutral face. Instead, Morgana perked up from his place next to the counter.

“It looks like everything is settled, then! So can we get this sushi party started?! This guy has a train to catch!”

The group dissolved to their typical happy chatter over food, then boisterous goodbyes when Akira left the coffee shop. All of their problems had been dealt with, and finally, everyone was happily moving forward with their lives. Akira smiled to himself on the train.

They didn’t need to know everything about each other to be friends, anyway.

Morgana decided to go for a walk as soon as they reached Kichijoji. “I’m staying on the correct side of the law this time, so go have fun. Just remember to be back at the station before the last train, or else we’re sleeping in these chairs,” was his final, stern reminder.

Akira didn’t have to wait by the jazz club for very long. The owner could read air, when Akira and “no, he’s a new friend,” and sat them down at their usual table. Their drinks were on the house, he said, and the man gave them both a firm pat on the shoulder as he left.

“I didn’t think I was gone for that long,” the young man with a fresh haircut, rolling his shoulder with a grimace. “Still, something about this place will always be soothing. I guess it’s nice to... be missed.”

The drinks were delivered, a mystery pair tonight, and they each took a sip. “Nothing beats the real thing,” he said with a sigh. He looked around the joint, and once comfortable, he relaxed into his seat.

“So,” he asked with a maskless grin, “did you have something in mind for our next duel, Akira?”

Joker’s smirk lit up his face like fire.

"I do, if you're willing to listen."


End file.
